Never Been Kissed
by Amanda Saitou
Summary: Jonathan wonders if Norrel has ever been kissed, and their relationship evolves. Strange/ Norrel sugar-slash!


A/N: This is slash, yes, so you've been warned. Hope you enjoy this one, there are so very few fics with this pairing in the web world...

**NEVER BEEN KISSED**

Jonathan had realized that Gilbert Norrell was in love with him in the first weeks of their incursion into the darkness together. In reality, he had already being hinted about this truth by many other people before, even by his own former wife, Arabella. At that time, he thought nonsense of it, and laughed at the very idea, even despite the obvious in the very front of him. But now, no, Jonathan couldn't deny it anymore.

Though showed in a most cautious way, Norrel's love for his younger companion was irrefutable. It was visible in every attitude towards Jonathan; in how he would take care of Jonathan every time he got sick; in the longing in his eyes when he side glanced at him during their studying sessions, unaware that the young man knew that he was doing it; in the subtle touches he allowed himself to, like playing with locks of his hair, holding his hand for a little more time than the necessary, or the blush that graced his cheeks when Jonathan hugged him after realizing a brand new theory.

First it had shocked Jonathan, after all, they were two men, and that, in their too puritan society, would certainly sound much more scandalous than any dark magic that Jonathan had ever performed. However, thinking further, the idea somewhat sounded amicable to him; they were two men, indeed, but not any ordinary man. They both were magicians of the strongest kind (had not they faced the Raven King forces themselves?), and magic was their connection from the very beginning; they loved it, they reveled in it, and he'd noticed that as long as they remained together, their magic was also becoming more powerful.

Diving even further into thinking, Jonathan realized that, despite their different personalities, they completed each other; one had what lacked in the other, and vice versa. They fought because of their similarities and matched because of their differences. And such inner dialogues went on and on until certain day...

NORRELSTRANGENORRELSTRANGENORRELSTRANGENORRELSTRAN GE

It was one of those afternoon studies in which Jonathan and Norrell spent calmly lost in their readings about magic, without words to be spoken between them.

Or so it seemed. Indeed, Gilbert Norrell was deeply enthralled by his book, but the same could not be told about Strange, whose eyes seemed much more interested in wander between the library and (most noticeably) his older friend.

Jonathan had been doing that a lot lately, but he couldn't avoid watching him endlessly. The way Norrell walked around the house, the soft steps reminding the ones of a lady; how he was always serious and ill humored in the mornings, and how he soon smiled at Jonathan's poor imitations of a joke; the way he sometimes glanced at him sideways, with a thoughtful mysterious expression; and of course, all Norrell's many and infinite little habits that would drive him crazy before, but now weren't more than amusing to him; sometimes he even got lost watching the man eat, only to be reprimanded about how his eating habits were poor; and there were the hand touches, all subtle and ghostly, but that were so reassuring and dear to him.

The questions that had been plaguing his mind and heart, he would conclude later, headed him, then, to put thoughts into motion.

"Mr. Norrell?"

Blue eyes turned in his direction. "Yes, Jonathan." It was visible the older man's tiredness, black bags around his adorable eyes.

"Have you ever been kissed?" It came naturally and boldly.

Norrell froze, his dusty book banging against the floor in a loud thud. "Excuse me?"

"I asked if you've ever been kissed, sir. Have you?" Jonathan remained piercing Norrell with his deep hazel eyes, as if it were an everyday question.

"I…Why in the name of God you want to know that, Jonathan?" Norrell saw his friend frowning, maybe because even he could read the fear in his voice.

Jonathan didn't answer instantly. Instead, he studied Norrell for a minute or two, curiosity and also something else in his scrutiny. Then, he stood up, picked up Norrell's book from the floor, put it back in Norrel's hands, and still crouched, arms supporting himself against the armchair, faced Norrell with one of his witty smirks in the face.

"I would like to know, sir, simply as that."

Norrel's gaze dropped to the wooden floor. He could have argued, could have battled such impertinent question, but he knew it was bound to happen someday. Sighing in defeat, he answered all too bluntly. "I had an intended when I was 15. I remember her stealing a kiss from me once."

"But was it a real kiss, sir?"

Norrell looked back at him. "I never paid much attention to such things, Jonathan, studying has always been my life anyway. It's not as someone like me should have great expectations in that matter, you know my temper. I have never offered neither good companionship nor good looks, and despite my parent's insistent desire that I married younger, the opportunity never happened."

Jonathan grabbed one of his hands, stroking it lightly. "You must have been in love before, though."

Another sigh followed by a bitter smile. "Love was not made for me, Jonathan. I am in peace with that, believe me."

"You say that someone like you shouldn't be loved? Or shouldn't have the right to love? That is such a sad statement."

Indeed it was, but Norrell tried no to think much about it. However, ever since he'd met Jonathan, such realization became a constant pain, and his loneliness, most of all, a severe burden.

Jonathan noticed it as well, and something startled for him. "Have you ever wanted to be kissed, sir, not a peek like you've had, but a real love kiss?"

How hard it was to say his planned lie speech when the person he most loved in the world stared at him in such close proximity. "Maybe. But I don't rely on silly dreams for too long, Jonathan, it's of no good use for me."

"But if someone really wanted to kiss you, sincerely wanted it… would you allow it?"

"You've been too engrossed into silly questions today." He tried a smile, but could come only with a fake glint of it.

"Can I kiss you, sir?"

Norrell backed away instinctively, if just a little. "Pardon me?"

"I want to kiss you. You're my dearest friend and I can't let you live without ever tasting such affection. I want to." Jonathan stood up, extending an inviting hand. "Do not look at me as if I were insane, Norrell, I am quite serious. Come."

Hesitantly and very nervously, Norrell took the hand, also standing up. They were face to face then, closer as they had never been before. Norrell looked away, at the floor once more. "It is a foolish thing, Jonathan, but be that as you wish."

He felt a hand lift his chin, and the tenderness at his friend's eyes was touching. Without a second word, Jonathan ghosted his lips over Norrel's, his own heart beating much faster than he'd anticipated. He did that for a while, tasting his lips, the soft skin around it, biting playfully, reasoning with himself on his own feelings towards his decision. As for old Norrell, he remained quite still in the younger man's arms, trying to memorize every touch, as he was very sure Jonathan would soon realize his mistake and let go of him.

So, when in a brief moment of hesitation, Jonathan interrupted the chaste kissing, Norrell believed the very thing to have happened. "Norrell…"

"It is fine, Jonathan, I told you it was a fool thing, didn't I?" The blue eyes tried to conceal the sadness in them, but the younger one could see very well right through them, and sighed.

"You think I stopped kissing you because I am disappointed, Norrell? That's so very like you, always expecting the worse to happen." His arms remained as they were around the smaller figure, only one hand reaching out to caress the pale face. "But you are wrong, that's not why I stopped at all."

"I don't understand."

"You see, when two people engage in this, huh, romantic venue, well, they _both _engage in it. But how can I demand it from you, when you've never experienced such things?" His hand traced Norrel's lips again, parting them slightly, tasting them in another chaste kiss. "I should be more romantic, more convincing, and not so hushed as a young fellow would be. I'm not gentlemanlike at all, and you must think the worst of me in acting this way, as if you didn't deserve a loving kiss and I…"

It was then that Jonathan was, for the first time, surprised by his best friend. Norrell threw himself in his arms, embracing Jonathan awkwardly but firmly. Not knowing what to do, Jonathan just embraced him back, unlocking the silver hair, combing his fingers through it. "Now what, Norrell?"

When Norrell faced Jonathan again, he had a shy smile in his face. "Is this considered _romantic_?"

Jonathan eyed his friend amused. "Well, I suppose so. I like your hair like that, by the way." He took a few strands of hair between his fingers, ghostly kissing them. "This is romantic too." He went forward, once again tracing his way to Norrell's lips, slowly and tenderly. "This too." And very sensually, one finger probed the same lips parting them enough for a tongue to slip in. "And this is…"

"Ouch!" Both parted abruptly, Norrell visibly embarrassed. "I – I…"

Jonathan laughed heartily. "You certainly have a good bite, my friend."

"I am sorry, Jonathan, I didn't mean to…" Norrell admonished himself for sounding so childish, battling the blush covering his pale face.

However, he was soon silenced by the same hand that had been caressing his face previously. "Don't be silly, Norrell, we just need, huh, some _practice_. So, another go?"

"Are you really sure of it, Jonathan?"

The warmness in Jonathan's eyes proved seriousness enough. "Never been more sure of a thing in my whole life, dear Norrell!"

And their first kiss was followed by many others, a new part in the two greatest English magicians' history barely starting…


End file.
